by Addison Fox
“What—” The rest of her sentence faded off as she caught sight of the small, black velvet box in his hands. “Oh.”
“You need a ring.”
“No.” The protest welled up, along with two stubborn tears that ran matched tracks down her cheeks.
“Why are you crying?”
“Because it shouldn’t be like this.”
“What should it be like?”
“Not like this. A sham.”
“The motivations are our business.” He slid closer to her on the seat, opening the box as he moved. “It doesn’t negate the fact that you deserve something beautiful.”
Streetlights outside the car flashed into the interior of the limo, and she marveled at the many facets that glowed from where the ring perched in the small box. The stone was breathtaking, an emerald-cut diamond that sat nestled between two diamond trillions. The sting of more tears stuck in her throat and she swallowed hard, unwilling to let them mar the moment.
This was a charade, nothing more. Her mother had endured one for more than thirty years. As Holt slipped the ring on her finger, she thanked the heavens she’d only have to endure one for a few weeks. She simply didn’t have the heart to hold out any longer than that.
…
The darkened restaurant seemed to envelop them as Mayson and Holt walked through the interior. Teddy had reserved a private room at the back, and as they followed the maître d’, she couldn’t ignore the jingle of nerves that lit her up like a slot machine. Nor could she stop the surreptitious glances at the ring that winked on the third finger of her left hand.
How could the excitement and confidence she’d felt when they went up to Hands, Hearts and Hugs—and after, when they made love—just vanish so completely?
She knew he must think her moods mercurial and hormonal at best, but something had fractured when she stood in the fashion closet at the office. And then it had broken clean through when she got the call from Sarah, blithely discussing their plans for dinner.
He’d acted without consulting with her. Worse, he’d put her in a position of lying about their perfect romance to some of her family’s oldest friends, an act she was only exacerbating with their performance this evening.
That wasn’t love, or even genuine affection.
It was a business arrangement.
Holt leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
“You look like you’re walking to a firing squad, not a five-star dinner.” His voice—deep and reassuring in her ear—set off a sudden attack of nerves. Heat flooded her system, and her body betrayed her with its entirely inappropriate reaction to the man.
“I’m ready to have this over.”
A bleak glaze hovered in his eyes, their normally vivid irises dull and lifeless. “I’m sorry this evening feels like such a chore.”
“Don’t worry. I’m more than up for the task.” She took his hand in a tight grip and pasted a smile on her face. “I’m a better actress than my mother. They’ll never know I’m just here as window dressing.”
Holt pulled them up short, outside the doorway to the private dining room. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You tell me. You’re the one who set up dinner.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he leaned in and vanquished. Despite the inappropriate location, he had his mouth fastened to hers and his hands on her waist, pulling her close, in less time than it took for her heart to take a beat.
The ire that had fueled her thoughts since their showdown in his office faded in the face of what she wanted so desperately to believe in. With that foremost in her mind, she lifted a hand to the back of his head and pulled him close. The kiss spun out, hard and fast, dragging them both to the edge of want, need, desire, and a whole host of emotions she knew there wasn’t time to dissect at the moment.
But later…
He lifted his head, and for the first time since he’d picked her up, she took an easy breath. Whether she liked it or not, they would do this.
Together.
…
Holt still struggled to get the taste of her off his tongue an hour later as they ate their salads. The uncomfortable need for her—a need that refused to be sated—had hit the flashover point, and he’d have given his eye-teeth to be anywhere but at this damn dinner.
For their part, Teddy and Sarah Craddick couldn’t be happier Mayson was there. She’d already been subject to wedding horror stories, grandbaby photos, and social gossip. To her credit, Mayson not only took it in stride, but she gave as good as she got. She suggested a florist and a seamstress to help fix some of the wedding drama, cooed sufficiently over photos, and smiled politely through the name-dropping. She was incredible. And she was an asset. Holt knew it was true, even as he knew it wasn’t the real reason he’d wanted her along.
He just wanted her.
“I want to hear all about how Holt proposed,” Sarah said, her gaze bright and her voice dreamy.
Mayson kept the details to a minimum, assuring Sarah it was a very new development. Holt peppered in his share of comments, explaining his impulsive need to be with her and how it just came over him to pop the question. He took the good-natured ribbing that he needed to get over impulse and plan something romantic, but since Sarah was already oohing and aahing over the engagement ring, they managed to skip over the most probing questions.
He couldn’t have scripted a more perfect evening.
Even if the slightest twinge lingered in his gut at the lie that was their engagement.
He’d lived by one credo in his professional life, and that was to deal in honesty. He knew Mayson’s impetuous suggestion in his office had been out of a need to help him see the deal through, but he wanted so much more. He wanted her and their baby and the life the three of them could make together.
Their waiter laid the next course on the table, and he used the moment to lean over and whisper in her ear. “I hope you realize I’m not giving up.”
“I hope you realize I’m not done fighting you.”
“Then clearly we need a bit more negotiation as part of our merger discussion.”
He watched her eyes widen and her mouth drop into a small “o,” and fought the temptation to reach up and rub his thumb over her lower lip.
God, how he wanted her.
Holt didn’t miss Sarah’s knowing smile before she focused on her plate. Nor did he miss the subtle shift at the table as Teddy took control of the evening, moving their conversation on to business. He was prepared and was more than ready to get the discussion over with.
“I sent over a counter proposal. What did you think of it?”
Holt nodded. “All your points were fair. I’m not sure why you’re refusing the tenant option. You can make the building far more profitable if you sublease it.”
“I don’t want others in my business.”
“They’re tenants, not others. And you contract them into the space, to your specifications. Add on the progress we already made on the suggested tax breaks, as well as the local agreement to refurbish the subway station that services the area. The build can accommodate the expansion of the station so tenants can access through the bottom levels of the building.”
“I saw that.”
“We’ve also addressed concerns about on-site security with that subway access.”
“Good, good.” The older man nodded. “You’ve thought of everything. Addressed anything I could have thought of and more.”
“Excellent.” Holt took a bite of his meal. They’d passed the most challenging part of the evening and the rest of the dinner would be smooth sailing, which would allow him and Mayson to get on their way and try to work through their relationship.
“I’ve got one more question.”
“Of course.”
“Who is Eloisa Westmoreland?”
…
Mayson watched the color drain from Holt’s face as a stoic mask came down over his features. Why
was Teddy asking about Holt’s mother? How could he know? Whatever she thought about Holt’s overreaction to his mother’s possible motives, she knew full well he didn’t discuss her with others, which meant something had happened to either bring Eloisa into Teddy’s orbit or Teddy had done some less than savory digging into Holt’s past.
Holt’s features were stiff, but it was his voice—deadly quiet and full of frost—that had her dropping a hand to his knee. “She has nothing to do with this deal, Teddy.”
“She requested a meeting with me yesterday. Said she had some information I needed to hear.”
“And?”
“I’ve done some digging since talking to her.”
It was like a ping-pong match, each sending another round of volleys across the net. “Then you wasted your time.”
Mayson didn’t miss the fire that burned in Holt’s gaze. His gaze was bleak, but battle sparked clearly in the depths of his eyes.
“She’s suspected of fraud in three business deals. She’s also suspected of several high-profile thefts.”
“An unfortunate circumstance she brought on herself.”
“Circumstances you were well aware of.”
Mayson reached for his hand once more, prepared to give him support now and ask questions later, when he pulled his hand away. She struggled to ignore the hurt that welled quickly, but couldn’t shake the embarrassment of his rejection.
“My mother’s poor choices have nothing to do with me. They never have.”
“You can’t deny you keep in contact with her.”
“It’s long past time to deny anything, Teddy. It’s also long past time we end our discussion. I realize now I never should have pursued your business. My apologies for wasting your time.”
Mayson stood with Holt, their dinner coming to an abrupt end. She made her hasty good-byes to Sarah and sidestepped anything beyond a polite “thank you for dinner” to Teddy and followed Holt from the restaurant.
The ride to her apartment was quiet, the bright street lights streaming through the tinted windows turning Holt’s face into a garish mask of anger and what she could only believe was regret.
“Holt?”
“Not now.”
She wanted to reach out to him and touch him, but even that seemed forbidden. She wanted to ease the pain that was so clearly there, but each time she thought to reach for him, his stiff, stoic demeanor held her back. There’d be time enough for all of it once they were in the quiet privacy of her apartment. Time enough to work through whatever had gone so horribly wrong at dinner. Because whatever she’d deluded herself into believing all week, there was no way she was walking away. No way she could leave him when he was hurt like this.
Other than his request that they wait to talk, Holt stayed quiet for the duration of the ride. Only after the endlessly silent ride to her apartment did he finally speak as they stood before her door. “I’ll call you in the morning.”
“If you think you’re going to turn around and leave, guess again.”
“Look—”
“Oh no. I put up with the silent treatment in the car, but we’re going to discuss this.”
“Now’s not the time.”
“Now is the perfect time.” She finished with the third lock and swung the door wide open. “I’ve got some things I need to say.”
The darkened apartment beckoned them inside, and she moved through the room to turn on all the lights. It was a simple thing, but the need for brightness was almost palpable. Whatever they needed to say to each other, it needed to be out in the open. They were going to deal with it.
“Would you like a drink?”
“I’m fine.”
Mayson headed for the kitchen and snagged a few bottled waters. She wanted one, and she suspected that before their conversation was finished, he’d be glad she’d retrieved a second for him. When she rejoined him in the living room, she was touched by the figure he made as he stood by the darkened windows. It was so like the moment she’d come upon him at the beach, the first day they were reacquainted. He was so damned solitary.
“Talk to me. Share this with me.”
He turned from the window, his face blank. “Why? So it can taint you? So I can put you in a position where you have to sit across from a family friend and hear him make accusations about my background, and clearly my ethics? Ethics, by the way,” he reached for the water bottle she’d set on the coffee table and pulled off the cap with a harsh twist, “that we didn’t exactly honor by making up our little engagement.”
“It’s our business, and Teddy Craddick would do well to remember that. I don’t owe him my personal life and neither do you. If he doesn’t want to do business with you, that’s his choice, but let’s get over the worry that he’s got any say at all in what happens between us.”
“He does have a hell of a lot to say about my mother, and he’s hardly wrong.”
“She forced you to make choices. You can’t think you’re responsible for those things. Actions you were forced into as a child.”
“Situational ethics, Mayson, nothing more. None of it changes the fact I haven’t turned her in.”
“She’s your mother.”
“And she’s a criminal.”
“Have you helped her as an adult? Participated in anything that could be construed as illegal?”
“No.”
“Has she told you about what she’s doing?”
“There’s no reason to play back my actions as saintly.”
“And there’s no reason to play the martyr, either.”
He stood up to pace again, and she couldn’t tear her gaze from his large form as he crisscrossed the room. “It’s hardly that simple. I did talk to a detective years ago. Thought I could do something about the situation. Despite my input, they weren’t able to pin anything on her, and I had to ramp up my office security to avoid recrimination once she figured out the police were nosing around.”
“So you did right by the situation.”
“So right I shut down any further involvement. At that point, I had employees to worry about and their safety at the forefront of my thoughts. If the police couldn’t be bothered to take my input, there was no reason to keep barking up that tree and putting others in danger.”
“Again, I fail to see how that’s your fault.”
The bleak calm that rode his features dissolved in an instant as he turned on her. “Because she’s still out there. Still conning her way through life. It ebbs and flows depending on whether or not she’s snagged a rich partner, but she always ends up right back in the same place. I’ve spent my life trying to put distance between myself and that, and still it follows me like a stench I can’t remove no matter how hard I try.”
“I don’t know why you can’t see reason on this, Holt. You’re not her and you’re not responsible for her decisions. You run a good, honest business, and you’ve worked damn hard. That counts for something.”
A hard, bitter laugh rumbled up from his throat. “Until I sit in a business dinner, with my fake fiancée, unable to close a multi-million dollar business deal because my mother’s a thief and my opponent thinks the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.”
“Then he’s the idiot.”
“Easy words from a woman who’s accomplished every damn thing she’s set out to do, backed by a family with the entire town’s respect and admiration.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on!” Holt flung his arms wide as he turned to face her from across the room. “You can talk about how far above the wealth and the power you are, but it’s only because you have those things and have always had those things.”
Shock mixed with an increasing haze of red across her vision at his words. “My upbringing has absolutely nothing to do with how hard I work or how I see the purpose of wealth. It’s not a damn contest, Holt. No one wins at the end of their life because they’ve got the biggest pile.”
“You can’t deny you like the life you’ve got.”
His gaze roamed the room. “You know as well as I do most people in this city don’t live in penthouse apartments overlooking the park.”
She knew this conversation wasn’t going to be easy, had known it the entire ride home from the restaurant, but nothing had prepared her for the vitriol that dripped from his every word. She knew he hadn’t built his empire because he sat back and refused to take action, but this was something else, something dark and dangerous. And deeply hurtful.
“Where is this coming from?”
“You don’t understand—and you can’t understand—the position I’m in.”
“And you refuse to let me try.” Hurt flared inside and she couldn’t stop the icy cold that spread through her limbs. Perhaps it was the lingering resentment of his attitude about her wealth. Or maybe it was the very real evidence that whatever had been tentatively built between them was crumbling. “Now, in this conversation. And even before at dinner, when I tried to take your hand in mine. When it’s on your terms, we have a relationship, but when I push for anything or attempt to offer comfort, you push me away.”
“We aren’t a match, no matter how hard we try to ignore that. You’re sunshine and flowers and weekends helping kids, and I’m the product of a thief. Oil and water at its best.”
“So how do you explain what we have when we’re together? When it’s nothing but the two of us?”
“Sexual attraction, nothing more.”
“I don’t believe that, and I know you don’t, either.”
“Oh no?”
Holt had her off her feet and in his arms in a matter of moments. Where the spontaneous kiss in the restaurant had been filled with unexpected passion, this was a kiss meant to make a point.
A kiss meant to bruise.
With a hard push, she shoved against his shoulders, dragging her mouth away from his. “You’re not a bully so quit the act.”
He dropped his hands to his sides, but she didn’t miss the icy chill that emanated off him in waves. “I’m a cold-hearted bastard. I tried to tell you that before, but you didn’t believe me. Hell.” He laughed, a cold, empty, mirthless echo that faded into the room. “I didn’t want to believe me, but it’s true. It’s always been true.”
